


Yours In Life And Death

by helens78



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Consensual Snuff, M/M, Rough Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-03
Updated: 2004-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-05 11:43:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kronos puts a heavy claim on Methos, and there's a little ritual about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yours In Life And Death

Eight years. In that time, Methos has gone from slave to companion to counselor. Kronos has started taking Methos's advice when it comes to planning raids, strategizing. But Methos has never been an equal.

Not until today. Today Kronos had Silas saddle a horse for Methos and Caspian gave Methos the mask, the armor, the robes. Kronos himself painted woad onto Methos's face, then ordered Methos to his side. They're four now. Four horsemen. Methos throws himself into the raid with all possible abandon, and Kronos watches him cut down more than a dozen before he even takes a moment to breathe.

He's a natural. It's beautiful to watch.

When the raid is done, Kronos grabs Methos by the arm and drags him into the nearest empty tent. He shoves Methos down on the blankets and tears at his clothes.

This is different from every other time Kronos has demanded sex after a raid. This time Methos can make demands of his own, mark Kronos all over with teeth and nails for the short time those marks will last. He pushes Kronos's armor away, rips and rends until what's left of Kronos's clothing hangs off him in shreds. For his part, Kronos gets Methos's clothes off and then gives back every scratch Methos puts on him. When they're both bare, or close enough to it, Kronos slams Methos down on the ground again. But face-up this time.

Methos shoves both hands between them, pushes Kronos back a few inches when Kronos tries to force Methos's legs apart. Kronos snarls, baring teeth, but Methos snarls back and goes groping through the pile of torn clothes for a small leather pouch, one he uses for that oil Kronos likes having rubbed into his muscles after-- oh. Kronos takes the oil, pours it over his hand and then drives his fingers into Methos, even rougher than he'd be with no slickness at all.

Methos doesn't get much prep, but then he doesn't need it, either. He's been taking what Kronos gives him with no preparation for eight years now. The scream he lets out when Kronos finally slams his cock in deep is more out of pleasure and need than pain, and he gets a leg around Kronos's waist, forcing him in harder.

Kronos grabs for Methos's hands. It takes a few seconds to pin him down, and the fight is a good one, one Kronos wins only after shoving himself up, slamming his cock in deep, and giving Methos an openhanded slap across the face. Methos goes still after that, and Kronos pins both his wrists to the blankets. As soon as he's sure Methos has stopped fighting, Kronos shifts his grip from wrist to throat and presses down slowly, steadily. Methos knows the words before Kronos says them.

"_Brother to brother..._"

Methos's lips form the words along with Kronos, even though he knows what comes next and is sure he won't like the way it plays out.

"_Yours..._"

Kronos's grip tightens on Methos's throat, and Methos starts choking, quickly reaching a point where his chest aches and he can't take in any air.

"_...in life and death._"

Methos means it, but Kronos has every intention of forcing him to prove it. Kronos knows exactly how long it takes to make someone's eyes go glassy, how long it takes to kill someone with bare hands. If Methos were fighting, it would be nearly impossible. As it is, Kronos gets an easy kill.

_But hardly the least painful_, Methos thinks-- barely has time to think before Kronos crushes his windpipe and takes him for slave, lover, equal, brother.

_Yours in life and death._

_-end-_

**Author's Note:**

> This one started as a drabble:
>
>> It's taken a good eight years to get to this point, and Methos dives into it with all the passion he has for living. Kronos hisses when Methos sinks nails and teeth in, but he doesn't turn away. He has marks of his own to leave, scratches of his own to give.
>> 
>> He pushes Methos to his back, listens to the soft rapid sounds of Methos's breathing. He pins Methos's wrists to the blanket. He doesn't have to ask for the words. Methos knows what he wants to hear.
>> 
>> Methos gasps. "Brother to brother... yours in life and death, Kronos."
> 
> But as Ruth's pointed out, some drabbles leave you wanting more story, and I thought this one was definitely in that category, so I thought I'd stretch it out to 200 words, then 300, then... by the time I got above 400 I stopped counting.
> 
> I've debated with my husband about what would've happened when Methos and Kronos first met each other, and every time I pitch a story idea, he asks "So why didn't Kronos just kill Methos?" (or vice versa). To be honest, I still haven't figured that out unless we add sex to the mix (ie, Kronos picks up Methos as a bed slave). But one of these days I'll think of something.


End file.
